


The Secret

by OnceUponAPairing



Series: Tony Angst [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Child Abuse, F/M, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Tony, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective!Avengers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2017-12-14 17:07:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/839299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceUponAPairing/pseuds/OnceUponAPairing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Tony Stark, for the lack of a better word, was an actor, and had been since the day he was born.'</p><p>This is the story of the Secret, and how all of Avengers (and others) found out, and what they did about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prolouge

Tony Stark, for the lack of a better word, was an actor, and had been since the day he was born.

He was arrogant, self-centered, and spoiled, the press snarled. He was merely a narcissistic brat, they snapped. It was almost laughable to Tony, but even he couldn't admit it was a relief that they didn't notice. It was better, easier, that they didn't know the truth. Really, truly, the real male was insecure, had a low self esteem, self-destructive, and at fifteen, had become dangerously suicidal.

Oh my, would it have caused a scandal. They were a loving, close family in public, sure, but behind closed doors was a completely different story. Howard Stark was an alcoholic through and through. At times, it ended badly for poor Maria, and more Tony as he got older. The doctors were paid off, any footage erased, and bruises covered. Anything major could be covered by Tony's 'clumsiness'. Not a word in the papers ever suggested otherwise.

Occasionally, a servant of his father's would spare him a pitying glance or two, or his mother would whisper reassurances in his ear of peace and a life without beatings and pain. But just like his facade it was lies, lies, all lies.

A year before his parents died, there had been three suicidal attempts, all cleverly covered up with cash, hacking, and threats. The more days passed, the more the youngest Stark wanted to close his eyes and never have them open again.

His only regrets when his parents died was that his mother would never know a life without abuse.

Long, long after that, his PTSD didn't get better, or even lessen. The flashbacks and nightmares were still just as vivid, Tony still couldn't stand to look at a belt, much less wear one, and other things often set off panic attacks. And Steve, that dumbass, would talk about Howard (not father, the man was never a father) so fondly and it made Tony want to punch him in those perfect teeth.

He wouldn't confide in anyone, not even Pepper.

But sometimes it hurt so bad, and he was so terrified, and at times he wish he could. But he couldn't. No, no no. Imagining the look on her face sent him into shivers. Would she think it was his fault? Would she treat him accordingly? Would she quit because she was so disgusted?

And so, once again, Tony kept the secret.


	2. Pepper

Virginia Potts, better known as Pepper Potts, liked to think that she knew Tony Stark better than everyone else.

Well, really, she did.

She knew things the press or people wouldn't be interested in. The little quirks and habits of the man. Like after a good, long rain, the billionaire would order JARVIS to open all the windows because he loved that lingering scent of it, or that his favorite ice cream was nothing extravagant or weird, but simply vanilla. Those were the things she loved knowing about him. It was almost special, because it wasn't likely anyone else would ever find out these things. She had taken it upon herself to memorize each one of the pointless facts about her boss.

It was because of her careful observation of him that she learned about The Secret in the first place. There were plenty of hints of The Secret in the time she had been worked for Tony, but there were three that mattered the most, because without any one of them, it might have never been found out.

The first hint was from years of watching him. It had become obvious over time that his snarky and sarcastic attitude was to distance himself from others and hide his hurt feelings.

The second hint was Tony's drunken ramblings. She was 'escorting' (she called it that instead of dragging to make him feel better) and he mumbled something incoherent. All she had managed to pick out was 'belt', and that worried her. But in the morning, Tony said nothing about it and Pepper knew better than to ask.

The final hint was the one that made the puzzle pieces fit, and let Pepper see the whole picture. It was nearly one in the morning. Pepper usually wasn't up this late, much less at Tony's place, but some forms needed to be filled out and objects to order for building, because there was always business to be done. Finishing up the last paper, she considered crashing for the night before deciding against it and packing up her stuff.

She probably would have, had she not heard the moaning from Tony's room.

Instantly, she knew something was wrong. It wasn't the good kind of moaning. Tony never,  _ever_  moaned like that. In a flash her stuff was on the floor, and JARVIS had known and opened the usually locked door for her. It didn't take her long to be at his side.

Seeing him, so vulnerable and open was worse than the moaning. He was thrashing and muttering, drowned in a cold sweat and looking just so miserable Pepper just wanted to scream. She took a moment to collect her bearings before she spoke.

"Tony." But her deafened voice couldn't break him from his personal hell. She tried again, louder.

"Tony!"

His eyes flashed open and he quickly sat up. His eyes scanned the room frantically, but they seemed to see nothing. Somehow, the assistant knew exactly what to do.

"Tony, it's Pepper. Remember? You're in Stark Tower. Nobody's going to hurt you, alright? Everything's going to be fine."

His pupils landed on her, and a spark of recognition settled in his eyes. Then, a splash of something else. It took Pepper a moment to place it, and when she did, her stomach dropped.

Shame.

"Oh geez- Sorry, Pep. Did I worry ya? I must've been talking in my sleep. But everything's alright now." He smiled, but his hands were shaking. Pepper wasn't inclined to believe the lie and leave him in this state.

"Tony..." she stated softly. "Don't lie to me." In a second, the mask shattered. He was too tired to keep it up, plus, Pepper could see through it as if it was transparent anyway.

"I'm so sorry, Pepper. I try so  _hard_  but I can't do anything right and- god, he said it would make me better but it only hurt and I just want it to stop, and I want to stop-"

She swallowed thickly. "Who hurt you, Tony?" Her voice was calm, soothing, but inside she was furious.

"It was never his fault, it was mine, and it's still and always gonna be mine because I can't stop messing up. I'm not a  _hero_ , Pep, even that bastard knew I am a villain in disguise-" Tears shone in the genius' eyes.

"Tony," she started again, her anger flaring even more so. "Who hurt you?"

"Him. It was always him. Him, him, him. He  _pretended_ to be proud of me and love me but no, no, no, he hated me so much, everyone hates me so much..." He was outwardly sobbing now.

It all finally clicked together in Pepper's head. "Oh,  _Tony_." she breathed out, and before she processed what she was doing her arms were around him. He stiffened for a moment before relaxing into her embrace. She just held him.

"Tony, listen to me. I don't and never will hate you. You're the kindest, most caring person I've ever met. You're certainly not a villain. You're a hero. If you weren't, you wouldn't be Tony Stark. You never deserved any of it. Ever. I'm going to make it better. I'm going to help you get over this." With that promise, The Secret had somehow become more bearable.


	3. Bruce

After a couple weeks of living in the tower, Bruce was quite comfortable with Tony Stark.

Once the awe had worn off, he realized that the genius was actually a pretty fun guy, and that was a lot coming from Bruce. He'd always felt uncomfortable around most people, preferring to remaining silent than get his two cents in. But, oddly enough, he felt safe and unguarded around the billionaire.

And even more strangely, Tony felt safe around Bruce, even with the threat of the Hulk looming over him.

On some level, he could tell that the other connected with him, but he couldn't find out how. They were completely different.

Until he realized they weren't.

The longer the gamma scientist lived with Tony, the more obvious the mask became.

They weren't very different at all.

It was after a difficult battle that the whole truth was revealed.

Even protection from the Iron Man suit wasn't enough to protect Tony against their new opponent. The man was a first time villain, but he had planned and prepared so well, he turned out to be unusually difficult. He had been studying their battles for nearly a year, carefully cataloging the heroes' weaknesses and fighting styles.

Even Tony ended up giving the guy some props.

However, it turned out that the machines he built were good for the specific Avenger they were to be paired against, but add a second one to the mix and the thing was toast. Unfortunately, groups of two didn't end of working as there was six robots and only three groups. Somehow, Tony ended up battling three at the same time; one his own, Bruce's, and the last Hawkeye's, so the others could focus on the ones they were fighting together.

No one knew why he even dared, especially since Fury had specifically told him not to.

He probably would have gotten thoroughly chewed out if he wasn't unconscious.

Bruce, feeling more than a little guilty, offered to treat him. It was soon apparent he would have a lot of work to do. Tony was practically covered in injuries.

One new pair of pants and a ride to the lab later, he was ready.

"Does he have any allergies to medication?" he questioned aloud, glancing over at the man lying on the table. Hesitantly, he brought up Anthony Stark's medical files.

He wasn't happy invading his friend's life like this, but Pepper was unreachable. She was a apparently in a highly confidential meeting; the kind where they searched everyone and took away phones and other types of technology, It wasn't like he could ask Tony himself, either. Biting his lip, it only took a second to bring up the digital information.

Instantly, he knew something wasn't right.

His juvenile records were completely perfect, which worried him. Living with a inventive parent warranted a few accidents. A burn here or there, maybe a stitch or two. But in his there was absolutely nothing.

A bad feeling settled over Bruce, but he didn't stop as he began to dig deeper. Compared to his housemate, his hacking skills were okay at best, but it didn't take much to access his real medical past.

When he did, Bruce's eyes widened in horror, and for a moment, took a greenish tint. No, these kind of injuries were consistent with-no, not Tony...

It took several minutes of deep breathing for him to calm down enough to approach the subject again. Broken and fractured bones, internal bleeding, concussions, burns, deep, infected cuts... Tony had experienced it all. It took all of Bruce's willpower not to Hulk on then and there.

"I'm so sorry that you had to go through that, Tony..." he murmured, looking sympathetically at the male. It made sense now. It made so much sickening sense that it hurt. He picked up the phone, told the medic that he wouldn't be able to help Tony at this point, and proceeded to his designed room.

Though he knew the Hulk would never hurt Tony, he didn't want to chance it.

He would do anything to spare him that pain.


	4. Clint

Clint never found out The Secret, because he always knew.

He wasn't stupid; as a victim himself, it was rather easy for him to recognize others with similar pasts. He knew a facade when he saw one. Of course, he wasn't exactly expecting the great Tony Stark to have demons so like his, but when he looked back on it, he realized it wasn't that surprising.

The famous ones always had pressure. Pressure to be perfect, with no flaws or mistakes. Perfection. It didn't take much to come to the conclusion of that was what Howard Stark expected.

The difference was that Clint knew it was wrong to hit a defenseless child. He knew it was wrong to be harshly punished for something you couldn't help. It was abuse, he now knew, and it wasn't right, and never was. Tony, for how smart he was, obviously didn't know. It was almost funny that the assassin knew something a full out genius didn't. Sure, Tony wasn't one to condone hitting a kid, but for some reason it was different when he was the kid himself. If Clint hadn't had the same mindset once upon a time, he would have thought that was crazy.

It was amazing what someone could gain from meeting someone who had gone through the same experience.

Stark was still hurting. A lot.

The sniper wanted to help, make it go away. He really did, but he had no idea how. His own memories didn't help at all, not in this situation. All he remembered was that he wanted it to stay hidden and he never wanted to speak a word about it. That certainly wouldn't work. Once again, Clint wished that his training covered shit like this. It would make life a hell of a lot easier.

Usually, he would talk to Natasha about things like this, but he really didn't want to reveal his teammate's secret. Even if it was likely that she already knew. He knew better than to take the chance, even if he trusted her more than anyone. He didn't like it, but he wasn't as disloyal as to tell something this personal. Definitely not when he understood it this much.

So he did what he did best, because he wasn't a man to be on the ground confronting.

He watched.


	5. Natasha

Much like Clint, Natasha already knew the Secret.

Within the first five minutes in his presence, the similarities between him and Clint were astounding. The way they held themselves, the look in their eyes... It became obvious of their shared past. For a couple seconds, she tried to deny it. This was Tony fucking Stark they were speaking about. 

But then months later she looked up childhood pictures of the genius, and it all became clear. The look in the kid's eyes- no one, much less a child, could fake that miserable gleam. Then she remembered her report and nearly facepalmed. The mask, of course it was a mask, one he'd been wearing since childhood. That's why it hadn't made much sense to Natasha when he had flown himself into the wormhole. She was trained to analyze and predict human behavoir, but she hadn't even noticed.

With the way he acted, you suspected he had never experienced pain and always got what he wanted. But the little quirks Natasha noticed told her differently. Not to mention the arc reactor and his three month disappearance. If asked, he would probably blame his small habits on eccentricity, but she knew that was merely bullshit he made up to protect himself.

And if Natasha didn't beat him up so much when they sparred, or let Clint pull so many pranks on Tony, then she wasn't going to stop it. Because Natasha was the kind of person to watch, and support him in the tiny ways she could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so Thor then Steve will be the final two chapters. I may add Loki and Coulson as bonus ones, but I'm still mulling it over.


	6. Thor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, second to last chapter, you guys. Only Steve left. I apologize for the shortness, but I can't really find anything to add. Also, I tried writing in in Thor's voice.

Despite what most Midgardians thought, Thor Odinson was quite wise. It was not of his fault Midgard was so confusing.

After many winters with Loki, he knew very well how to tell if a person from any realm had neglected to offer the truth, or was keeping the truth to themselves.

Because of this, he was one of the first to discover the Secret, though no one else knew of his finding out.

Anthony, or Man of Iron, wasn't revealing something of importance. Thor was sure of this. Of all the Avengers, he had the happiest (and longest) childhood. He knew that truth already. Most of his fellow comrades had said at one point or another that Anthony was second on that mental list. However, in some ways Thor was more insightful than his teammates. He did not wish to offend anyone, but his observation skills were not a lie.

There were certain things that Anthony did that worried Thor, but if only because it was something Loki would do. The parallels between Anthony and Loki were, if he was required to choose a word, frightening. He did not like it.

It was not much time at all before it all became clear. The way Anthony would flinch like a fearful puppy... It made his fists itch for Mjnoir and little sparks appear and fizzle.

However, Thor knew it would not do good to confrount the famed Man of Iron. So by the sharing of what the Midgardians called 'Poptarts' and aiding his comrade more frequently in battle, he showed his support.

That was the way on Asgard, so why wouldn't it be like that on Midgard?


	7. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, sorry this took so long, guys... Well, anyway, here's Steve's, finally. This fic is pretty much finished with that, though if enough people want them and I get bored enough, I will do bonus chapters with Coulson, Loki and/or any other characters, though I will still leave it's status as completed. I might also add a chapter where Tony finds out that everyone else knows. With that, I hope you enjoy!

Steve was the last to find out The Secret.

It isn't that he's stupid or anything of the sort. In fact, Steve is quite clever, and not as stuck up in his ways as most people thought. Though he was still adjusting to the just awe-striking twenty first century, he was honestly adapting much faster than anyone had thought. That was not the problem. No. It wasn't why he didn't realize it before at all.

The issue was, he'd known Tony's father, before the world had changed him.

He hadn't known about the alcoholism, he hadn't known about the bursts of spontaneous anger. He hadn't known the cold, distant father his friend had been when he was sober. Steve hadn't known how the war (and his own 'death') had changed the brilliant scientist.

Because he didn't know such things, in his mind, Howard had been exactly how he'd left him. Charming, tasteful, drifting a little into the mad scientist category, but not in a villainous way, so it'd been almost amusing to everyone around him. To Steve, that's who he was. 

Tony was similar, yet so different from his late father, that it drove Steve insane. It was difficult to even be  _around_ him sometimes. He was Howard in the smallest of ways, yet he flaunted his wealth and was so damn  _annoying_  at times in a way Howard never was, and it pissed him off. God, the worst part was, the worst part was, was that  _Tony never listened._ He always just went on and did whatever he wanted, and though most times it turned out okay, that still didn't make the blonde happy.

As luck would have it, it was with that annoyance that Steve ever found out.

"God," he mumbled one day after a particular harsh battle. "That was hell..."

"I've seen worse," Natasha shrugged, pulling concrete crumblings out of her crimson locks.

"...can't Stark listen one time...? Just once? Sometimes I doubt Howard ever taught him respect."

"Steve." Natasha's tone was very suddenly and very dangerously like ice. "Don't you ever say that again. Especially when Stark is around."

Though the Star Spangled Soldier was honestly afraid at this point (you didn't dare argue when one of the most dangerous assassins in the world is angry at you) but in the end, curiosity won out. "...Why...?" 

It was on an August afternoon, in the middle of the Helicarrier Sick Bay, that Steve was told about The Secret.

After that, he didn't mention Howard again. The man wasn't worth it. Now, Steve knew, he never was.

 


	8. Coulson

After Coulson finds out The Secret, he holds a trembling Tony ever so calmly, anger brewing beneath cold eyes.

He's honestly not sure what had happened, but he got a call from Stark's AI, and before he knew it, he was in the workshop, trying to calm down an erratic Tony.  _Panic attack_ , JARVIS has told him, and Coulson has to agree. He's seen this before, in agents who weren't ready to be soldiers, in children SHIELD had found in the midst of war. He's experienced some himself, and the way those brown eyes had widened, misted like he wasn't seeing what was in front of him, was textbook. He doesn't know what triggered it, but he speaks steadily and easily and tells Tony where he is, the year and location and other things, but what is said back freezes the normal stoic agent to his core.

The words poor out of the inventor, carelessly, quickly,  _too much emotion_ held in each trembling word, secrets that weren't in the file, suspected but not confirmed. It is almost automatic that Coulson pulls the other into a enveloping hug, his own memories of angry voices and violent hands leaving bruises and scars lingering under the surface. He knows the pain is deeper than that, deep into the entirety of a person.

As he murmurs soothing phrases into the genius' ear, there is furious rage he can barely contain inside. He wishes that Howard Stark was still alive, so at least some kind of twisted justice could be achieved. But for now, he must hold the broken pieces of Tony and put him back together. 

For now, there is nothing else he can do.


	9. JARVIS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thought it was appropriate to add a JARVIS chapter after seeing Age of Ultron (no spoilers in the chapter, by the way!). Thinking about maybe Loki or Rhodey next. We'll see what happens :)

JARVIS had always known on some level.

Yes, at first it was not acknowledged, and those early days which there was only Sir in just test questions and responses, and his then disemboweled voice answering and learning, he'd learned not to ask about the bruises and not to ask about the fearful way Sir would answer that man's phone calls. In those days, he'd been so obedient and small, a confined secretary more than the capable protector and servant he now was.

Now, he was stronger.

It was when the bruises got more frequent but the calls less when JARVIS began to grow worry for his young Sir (this was the first time he'd felt emotion, a miracle his Sir called it, but JARVIS called it a necessity to care for one Tony Stark, his primary purpose for existing, even if Sir would never admit it), and to wonder if there was anything he could do. He was just about to ask, no longer taking his Sir's word for complete truth, when the call came.

Everything changed with the call.

It was small changes at first. Men came (Sir asked him to be quiet. No one was supposed to know about him back then) but JARVIS listened in anyway. He learned, as he'd been programmed to do, anyway.

Sir's father (Howard Stark, founder of Stark Industries and CEO, but more importantly the man who- Sir told him their minds (well, his mind and JARVIS' code) were very similar, never stopping, but the problem with Sir, JARVIS found out, was he could not chose what to focus on. So he drank and punched needles in his skin) was dead, along with his mother. Butchered in a car accident, and Sir feigned the upset child but when the men were gone he fell silent, and simply sat on the bed.

The calm before the storm, JARVIS would recall later.

He threw things, screaming as the tears ran, and after the anger had ran out he went for the bottle, his sobs turning hysterical. Words were something JARVIS tried to use to help him in the beginning, but nothing would console Sir, so eventually he just fell quiet. His limited vocabulary and understanding would not help him now. Eventually, even that stopped, and Sir himself fell silent, his fingers still curled around the neck of a wine bottle.

JARVIS called the only person he knew who to call, and thanked his maker (his Sir) that he had been just been installed in the rarely used phone belonging to his creator. The man his Sir called ‘Rhodey’, a friend, he had been described as even if the word itself wasn’t even used. An unwelcome, dark feeling rose in his wires and code, something he’d later identify as jealousy, and he wondered if he’d made the right choice… if this man would take advantage of Sir.

The man was dark skinned and had a long face and strong features, but the second his dark eyes laid upon his friend, nothing but concern and surprising fear shone through, and the way he carefully picked up Sir was even more gentle. The worry of this man hurting Sir was long gone. All that was left was relief.

Sir came home three days later, tired and in a hospital gown, but grinning just as widely as before the call as he greeted JARVIS.

“I’m home, honey. Did you miss me?"

_(The screaming of ‘why do I care?’ and ‘he hated me, he beat me why do I fuckin-’ still rang in his artificial ears, long after the aftermath of the call. JARVIS did not forget and found himself despising that man that had hurt his Sir so. The panic attacks over the years increased that resolve)_

“Of course, Sir. Welcome home.”


	10. Loki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aha this isn't super late or anything- oh geez. Well at least it's out?

To Loki, Tony Stark is quite the curious case, and that curiosity was what unraveled The Secret.

From the moment he laid eyes on him, he was intrigued. A man with demons not unlike his own, hiding behind a smirk and golden armor. On the side of ‘good’. Man of Iron, he’s heard the Oaf call him. Perhaps, he thinks, it is not just his armor that is made of metal. The facade is something almost stronger.

But just like any metal, it can be dented. Bent. Melted.

Before, he thought that maybe it had not yet happened. Some scratches maybe. Nothing that time and/or effort could buff out. This man had faced hardship, sure, the blue radiating from the chest and defensive nature proved it. But the Man of Iron had not been broken.

(Not like _he_ had)

Of all of the so called Avengers, he was easily the most entertaining. The so called ‘Captain’? Too vanilla. The arrow one and Widow he’d already figured out. The green monster was not a thing he enjoyed getting near. The Oaf needed no explanation. So Stark it was. Besides, he had a genuinely enjoyable sense of humor and the ego and temper were fun to poke at. His intelligence wasn’t that bad either.

So naturally, like a fascinated child, he decided to play.

The boredness that flowed since his escape from Asgard (yet again) wasn’t unexpected, but what to do with it was a good question. Taking over Midgard had never been his objective (only _Thanos_ ’), and he was tired of those huge elaborate schemes with the only goal being to hurt and destroy. Pranks had been his style, always had been. So that’s what he did. Admittedly, he’d never did the ‘average’ pranks, the little small ones, but hell, he was Loki, God of Mischief. So what was the harm in a little fun?

Doctor Doom (for a smart man, was rather… dumb) had decided to play with the Avengers with his seemingly endless wave of Doombots. Boring. So Loki made them all bright pink, two feet taller, and then wreak havoc wherever they went… and not listen to their previous ‘master’ at all. All there was left to do was sit back and watch.

Doctor Doom's frustrated screams were hilarious.

However, not all the actors were on stage, which caused a state of discontentment Loki disliked.

The Captain was there (as usual), throwing his shield like a toy, but it certainly wasn’t by the way it was decapitating quite a few robots. He could not see Widow but he didn’t need to. Her presence was always subtle, after all. The Oaf was thundering around like he owned the place, yet again. The Green One’s screams dwarfed every other sound. The arrows from the one so skilled with them wouldn’t have done much damage had they been normal, but the explosions following each (and the subsequent pink metal flying everywhere) assured Stark had put some work into them.

Stark… where was he?

The red and gold streak that he had become accustomed to seeing simply wasn’t there, not in the sky nor the ground. Even when blood stained the side of his metal armor he always still fought, not even slowing down. Despite the fact they had only been enemies, Loki still knew it wasn’t like the man to miss a fight.

It was obvious that Loki had a hand in what had happened, but they had not yet seen him. It was easy to slip away.

The inside of Avengers Tower was less… extravagant than he assumed. Though certainly showing signs of living, there wasn’t really much of what he’d come to know as Midgardian technology. At least in the past, this had been Stark’s home, and surely someone who enjoyed flaunting his technological skills as much as Stark would have such displays around his living space, but there was nothing besides the large screen on the wall across from the couches and the smaller one on the table next to one of the couches.

“Loki,” a voice coughed from behind him. “T-The rest of the party too dull for you?”

Loki turned to face Stark, and was both surprised and somehow not at the same time at the sight in front of him.

Bloodshot, glossed over eyes and sweat-soaked hair met his vision.He was shirtless, one of his shaking, pale hands curled over the blue metal embedded in his chest, sweat glistening on spider-web scarring radiating from the foreign object. His other hand was gripping the door frame, fingers white from the pressure, and even with the extra help he was still leaning forward slightly.

“You are unwell…” Loki mumbled, ignoring the man’s words.

“No shit!” Stark snapped before instantly going into a coughing fit. Only once it had ended did he continue. “Now why are you in my house? Want to give killing me another go now that I’m down for the count?”

A bitter laugh rose in Loki’s chest at the suggestion. “As insufferable as you are that is not my intention.” _Never was_. “I was simply curious on why you were missing from the ‘fun’, as you’ve called it. You are not often absent. You must be quite unwell to stay behind.”

Instantly Stark bristled. His back shot straight up, and a pained gasp left his lips before he continued. “I’m not- I didn’t stay back because I’m sick. I have some stuff I need to do here.”

He raised a brow. “Everyone gets sick. Taking a break to let the illness run its course is much more preferable to pushing yourself and making it worse. There’s no shame in it, Stark.”

“Of course there is!” He moved to slump against the door, his hand pushing back his short hair uncertainly. “It’s- me, I… I’m different. Different from other people. I can’t-”

“Cannot be sick?” Stark tensed as he approached. “That’s ridiculous. All your intelligence, and you still can’t see that?”

“He was smart too! He was smart too and he fucking-” He took a shaky breath before wet coughs followed once more, and pain flashed across his features. Loki frowned.

“What are you rambling about now, Stark?” But it wasn’t like the man was listening anymore.

“-God, I hated him, but not as much as he hated me. Fuck, who drags his kid to a charity party when he’s throwing him and can barely stand, and then beats the shit out of him when he ends up -guess what- throwing up!”

Loki was by his side now, frown deepening as he placed his hand on Stark- No, Tony’s chest to steady him.

“ _Jesus_! You dip your hand in ice water?!” His words were starting to slur.

“You are feverish.” It wasn’t a lie, but not why his hand was cold. “You need sleep, Stark. Or you will kill yourself before any man will get the chance.”

“Sir’s room is down the hall, third on the right, Mr. Laufeyson.” A cool voice echoed from the ceiling. Loki frowned but didn’t question it. After all, it wasn’t like the man he was half-dragging, half-helping down the hallway was in any way coherent.

“Contrary to what you may believe I know something about a less than ideal father,” Loki mumbled as he threw a blanket over the unconscious form sprawled across the oversized bed. It wasn’t like Stark would remember his words, so he didn’t hesitate in saying them. “Perhaps we are more alike that I first assumed, Tony Stark.”

* * *

 In the morning, all Tony would remember was a flash of green light and a bitter laugh, and even then, he considered it a dream. Maybe it was better that way.

All he wanted was for The Secret to remain in the dark, after all, even from himself.


End file.
